Saturday, I love you like gold. Not like the Monday, you pass like a ghost. The fire killed you like a motherless child. I saw you last Sunday at Barbara Hotel.
Saturday I love you like gold. Not like the Monday, you passed like a ghost. The fire killed you like a motherless child. I saw you at Sunday at Barbara Hotel.
Here I sit at Mary Ann's place. Oh baby, the rain is always pouring when I'm here. Saw the lightning, caught your stone. Oh, maybe the angels of tomorrow will let me go.
Hide or alone you make it feel at home. Silence is not even there no more. You make it feel at ease something to embrace. A heart that's forever believing it.